The Snowy Specture
by SimplyScarlett
Summary: When six young adult fresh from school, leave for a gap year, they arrive in the cold and desolate reaches of Devils Lake, South Dakota. But when the town seems seemingly empty, they realise something more sinister is at work.


The Snowy Spectre 

November in the Northern state of North Dakota is freezing, we always knew it would be, we had heard tell about the snow, rain, hail, blizzards and polar fronts, that could make temperatures decrease into the minuses but we went anyway. Nicola Walker, Zainab Chandra , James Keen, Luke Willis, Andrew West and I, Niamh Smith, were taking a year off, travelling the world, seeing famous monuments and places of our own interests. Or as James liked to call it, travelling the world to see something some old man built, he likes to lark about though, it's just in his personality.

We approached the town Devil's Lake, named after the body of water near it and a supposed Devil, not that I believe in monsters or creatures of the unknown. It is a small town, nearer to the border of South Dakota than Canada. Population 6,700, give or take a few people. We trudged through the snowy roads, from the small airport, it was morning, the sun was covered mostly by thick clouds,the light snow shower was beginning to cease. The roads were all so quiet, cold...desolate...dead.

The metallic ting of the bell sounded as Nicola pushed open the white shuttered door, into Devil's Lake equivalent of Millets combined with the Co-Operative, outside a big sign had stated privately owned. The man behind the wooden counter nodded, "Morning", he said, with a thick American accent. We all split up, each of us finding exactually what we needed and met up twenty minutes later at the counter. The man that had nodded to us upon entering began to tap the prices of our objects into his grey till, he glanced at our backpacks and bedrolls on our backs.

"Staying at one of the camp-sites in the park?" He asked, making conversation.

"No actually, we thought we'd camp in the forest, near the lake." Luke said, putting our buys in our rucksacks.

The man frowned, " Don't" he said, his voice misty and distant, "Don't"

"Why not is there something wrong with the forest?" Andrew enquired. I looked at the man's name plate, 'Victor Dashkov' it said.

The man did not reply he cocked his head to one side, staring at each of us individually. With that strange note he frowned, and disappeared into the storerooms of his shop.

I thought nothing of the matter, but Zainab and Luke were thinking it over, talking quickly quietly to each other, while we walked. We found a clearing in forest, near a run down, old wooden shack. We set up our tents, one for the girls and the other for the boys. Big blues ones, clearly visible, but broken up between the tall alpine trees. Prickly, and very tall. Almost like how a young children might draw a Christmas tree. We finished ours first and began to start a fire, while the boys were struggling with their rods. In the end Nicola and I went to help them. It took ages to start the fire, first it took a while to find the wood, refused to cut down any trees, we used some of the old shack, we found that it was an old lumberjacks shack. Filled with old rusting equipment and a moth-eaten bedroll.

Then however hard we tried we couldn't get it to stay alight. We'd strike the match, and set the wood alight, but within three seconds the flame would go out and what was even stranger was the wooden showed no signs of having had a flame upon it, even for a breif period of time. When we had lit the fire Zainab began to cook some pasta over the fire in a big metal pot. The smell of creamy sauce rent the air, and we began to eat, laughing and talking. After the pasta , Zainab and Andrew decided to turn in, layering themselves up with clothing and snuggling down in their sleeping bags. Nicola, James, Luke and I stayed up, huddling around the fire, eating marshmallows from a stick. James and I had developed a technique. Put the marshmallow in the fire until it catches fire, take it out then, let it burn for a while then blow it out. Then finally gently hold the top burn bit then pull it off, leaving the creamy melt marshmallow on the inside. We joked and laughed. James and I smirked and stifled chuckles as Luke gently tucked a bit of Nicola's ochre hair behind her ear.

Eventually we decided to turn in, Nicola and Luke went off to go and go to the toilet in the trees, not together obviously. I was just pulling on an extra pair of socks on when a blood curdling scream rent the air, it made shivers run down my spine. I felt Zainab beside me sit up quickly,wide awake,her sleeping back rustling. I heard her heavy breathing, as we both, scrambled out of the tent, pulling on out wellingtons boots hastily along the way. We stood at the entrance of the tent and looked around, we saw, Andrew and James looking around too. I felt Zainab's hand grip mine and then point towards the fire. I looked and saw Nicola standing staring at the fire. I stared back at it.

Standing seemingly inside the fire, was a pale figure, white as milk. Translucent, it stood there staring at us. It or he I should say wore a checked shirt, with black trousers tucked into a pair of thick clumpy boots. In his hand he held an axe, that was visibly covered in blood.

"Is it the demon?" Zainab whispered.

"I am not demon!" The figure said.

I felt Zainab, shrink further behind me.

"W-what are you...?" James said slowly, with a stutter.

The spectre did not answer just, stared at us.

"Ghost" "Demon" "Spirit" Our babbles faded into silence as we felt the spectres glare onto us. I glanced at the figure again, standing upright in the flickering flames.

Andrew tried, "Who are you...?"

The figure almost looked amused, as if the question was a strange thing to ask. A low chuckled rent the air, "Who am I?" He chuckled. "I am the Lumberjack!" He said, he brought one leg forward. I heard no crunch of snow as the heavy boot hit the snow. He brought his other foot out, just as quickly, his hands still holding the gruesome axe by his side.

"I am a lumberjack, nothing more, nothing less...well...I say nothing less. Less alive than I'd like to be." He said, he began to walk round us, like a sheep dog rounding up sheep. We all moved closer,but then he walk between us, splitting our group into pairs. Zainab clutched onto Andrew's arm, in ordinary circumstances he might have made a comment such as, ' my arm has got used to the whole ...blood thing...', which would have made Zainab immediately release her raven-like grip but not today...not now. Luke and Nicola were standing close, their eyes following the figure, Nicola's normal feisty flame, that Luke admired so much,had been doused. I felt James's arm, slide around my waist, he body slightly in front of me, protecting me.

"I died" He said, a small smile crossing his lips. "Unfortunately" He stopped his pacing, and turned quickly, to smile, coyly at Zainab. "Oh Zainab, Zainab" He said focusing on her, she shrank back. How could he know her name?

"You have a right to be scared" He chuckled, almost threateningly. None of us uttered a word.

"Is that a threat?" James said fiercely.

"Maybe" The lumberjack said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Andrew shot back.

"I.." The figure stepped towards Andrew, "Don't need to kill you...but...I might have to." He took another step closer. I saw Andrew lift his foot, and make as though to step backwards. His foot never touched the ground. I saw Andrew's eyes go misty and glazed. We all watched as he rose up into the air, spinning clockwise in circles, he got faster and faster. He face a façade of terror, he opened his mouth as if to scream but not sound escaped him. Zainab broke out into a stream of hysterical pleading. "please stop...p-please!" The ghost frowned at her, then brought Andrew down to the ground. "You two, asleep!" He commanded. I watched as Andrew and Zainab, collapsed onto the floor. I saw the figure move towards us, "You four..." He crowed. "So brave.." He continued. He sounded amused. "STAY OFF MY LAND!" He bellowed, his kind heart vanishing completely.

I fell backwards, I felt my hit the hard snowy ground. I heard some more thumps as my friends fell next to me. I saw the ghostly figure vanish before my eyes. My eyes closed.

I woke up, the bright sun beating down on my face. I turned my head slowly, and smiled softly as I saw James laying close next to me. His face was so... I sat up straight. The ghost where was it? I looked around fanatically. He was no where to been seen. I suddenly was aware of how cold I was, a thin layer of snow had coated my body, but we had all been huddled together, our body heat has stopped us from getting frostbite. We packed up our tents and set off back to the main town centre. We walked into the shop, expecting to see Victor Dashkov, standing at the till, tall dark and brooding. But an elderly woman stood there, her hair in neat curls, that probably hadn't changed since the second world war.

"Morning" I said as we walked past, picking up the objects we needed. We came back to the counter, none of us speaking a word.

"I thought Victor Dashkov worked here..on his own" Zainab said slowly.

The woman looked at us strangely.

"Victor Dashkov was a woodcutter...he died fifty years ago. A tree fell on him crushing him..forever.."

I now realised. The ghost we saw. The Snowy spectre was Victor Dashkov.

I think I've gone mad. Maybe we should all go and see a doctor, because we know what we saw. Maybe we are just strange.

I heard a song come over the radio...it my feelings perfectly.

_'people are strange_

_when your a stranger_

_faces looks ugly _

_when your alone_

_women seen wicked_

_when your unwanted_

_when your strange _

_faces come out of the rain_

_when your strange_

_no one remembers your name_

_when your strange_

_when your strange...'_


End file.
